Baseball Poems

by Dan Zamudio

Shiloh Park—Zion, Illinois

Old library,
recently converted
into a Senior Center,
looms deep across
center field grass.

Little league
batters
swing at chest
high pitches
desperate
to crank a ball
onto the roof

just once.

Old-timers
watch from behind
glass windows
and boast
among each other,
embellishing
baseball stories

of their youth.

Welcome to the Majors, Kid!

Fast ball
sizzles across
the strike zone

chest high

before smoldering
inside their catcher's
steady mitt.

Laughter erupts
from inside the visitor dugout
as I step inches from
home plate,
inhale a calming breath,
then carefully
prepare my batting stance
for another
big league pitch.

Opening Day in Chicago

Baseball
season begins
on a cold afternoon
as blankets warm cheering fans and

the first pitch soars across home plate
stinging our catchers hand
frozen inside
his mitt.

Dan Zamudio is a Chicago writer and lifelong Cub fan who recently forced his tired girlfriend to take three rolls of action photos while he played catch with strangers on Wrigley Field after a long tour.

Dan's baseball poems can also be seen in the 2001 issue of SABR's "The National Pastime."